


We live for today but we die for the next

by Keytrastar



Category: District 9 (2009)
Genre: Abandonment, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Betrayal, Christopher is late, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, MNU are bastards, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Slow Updates, Suicidal Thoughts, Supportive Christopher Johnson, Wikus is not in a good place
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:08:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27682690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keytrastar/pseuds/Keytrastar
Summary: He had long since lost track of time. Had long since stopped counting the days since Christopher's departure. At first, he had tried his best to keep track of the passing weeks until his eventual rescue, diligently tallying them upon the dirty metal surface of his shack and then later - the cloth of his tent, just waiting for the blissful moment he would finally be able to see his dear Tania again. To hold her within his arms once more. But as the years mercilessly went by, and there continued to be no sign of that huge, alien ship in the dirty blue sky, Wikus steadily began to lose hope.
Relationships: Christopher Johnson/Wikus van der Merwe
Comments: 15
Kudos: 42





	We live for today but we die for the next

He had long since lost track of time. Had long since stopped counting the days since Christopher's departure. At first, he had tried his best to keep track of the passing weeks until his eventual rescue, diligently tallying them upon the dirty metal surface of his shack and then later - the cloth of his tent, just _waiting_ for the blissful moment he would finally be able to see his dear Tania again. To hold her within his arms once more. But as the years mercilessly went by, and there continued to be no sign of that huge, alien ship in the dirty blue sky, Wikus steadily began to lose hope, his heart sinking within his chest more and more each passing day.

He didn’t know how long he’d stood there, on that wretched garbage heap, on the day signifying the three-year mark, looking up at the distant heavens stretching above him in search of the familiar massive form. Didn’t know how long it’d been before the disappointment had finally set in, the sheer realization that _he_ wasn’t coming to get him. That Wikus was all alone. Stranded in a world that absolutely despised him. But the former human remembered just how bitter it had tasted, that sense of betrayal, the sensation of abandonment. 

Christopher wasn’t coming for him. Despite everything Wikus had sacrificed, despite everything the man had done to get _both_ of them up to this point — He’d been forgotten. Left behind and sentenced to spending the rest of his days confined in this abominable form he loathed so much, unable to see his wife, unable to hold her within his arms once more, unable to even meet his _child_ (when had she given birth? Which day would he never be able to celebrate along with his family?)

The focken prawn had _promised_ him...

His knees hit the hard metal sheets beneath him with a loud clang, but he didn’t even flinch at the echoing sound, the intense ache that instantly radiated up his legs and spread throughout his alien body's system barely registering within his suddenly clouded mind. 

Christopher wasn’t coming for him... He was on his own.

Quiet, almost inaudible clicks and chitters left his abruptly clogged throat, the human turned alien almost _choking_ them out in sharp bouts, his body bowing forward and rocking uncontrollably back and forth in his overwhelming sorrow. Idly, he had to wonder if this was perhaps the prawn equivalent of crying, but the thought was there and gone within seconds, replaced by the image of the woman he would never get to see again. 

The focken bastard had _promised_ him —

Wikus would later feel foolish for his premature breakdown. Would tell himself that it was all fine, that everything was okay. So what if the prawn was running a little late? It was just one day. Surely he would be there tomorrow, parking his oversized tin can right over the dusty city of Johannesburg and picking up his stranded brethren to finally take them away. To finally liberate humanity of their presence. He would be there, Wikus was _sure_ of it...

But Christopher _wasn’t_ there on the next day. Or the next after it. Or the day after that. It took an entire four months before Wikus was finally able to admit it, to look at the truth staring him right in the face and actually begin to accept it. 

The prawn wasn’t coming for him, or the others. He — _They_ — were entirely on their own.

=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=

District 10 was quickly turning out to be little better than its predecessor had been.

Sure, it was much cleaner, with much less shooting disturbing the otherwise deathly silence of the night. Sure, it was a place with far less criminals running about, feeding off of your desperation and scamming you out of your last money, or trying to put a knife through your back in order to eat you, and gain your ‘power’. Sure, the prawns now had far more access to the barest of necessities than they ever had before (mostly because of the watchful eye of the world on them rather than any _real_ generosity on the government’s or MNU’s behalves. Apparently, the fiasco with the illegal genetic research programme had not yet been fully forgotten), but it was also so much worse in so many ways.

Wikus hadn’t been lying after all when he’d said that the place resembled a concentration camp more than it did anything else.

As soon as they had arrived and fully settled, the captured prawns were all immediately put to work, and he was no exception. Some were forcefully sent down into the gold mines. Others were assigned to working in nearby factories as they were a good source of cheap labor. All prawns that had somehow avoided registration up to this point were swiftly taken away, oftentimes in a violent manner. Wikus wasn't sure if they had eventually come back, if they had ever actually been _returned_ to the new district, and hadn't simply been disposed of. Even now all the aliens looked the same to him, although he had already begun to recognize individual traits such as chitin colors and patterns, as well as different voice pitches and behavioral differences. It would still take him a long while before he would be able to perfectly tell _all_ of them apart, however.

There was a lot more military stalking the narrow pathways of District 10 as well. Gun wielding maniacs, Koobus wannabees, looking for any excuse to harass and strike fear into the captive prawns, desperate to establish dominance and all but _begging_ for the chance to put their shooting skills to good use. They called it 'monitoring' of course. 'Ensuring that there was order, and that the new district boundaries were sufficiently guarded'. As if the electrical fences and barbed wire weren't doing a good enough job of that, along with the wooden watchtowers spread at equal intervals along the perimeter of the entire territory.

It quickly became a rather common occurrence to see those morons beating up a defenseless prawn for some reason or other, and later fining them for said, fabricated offense. Even though he had once worked with them, Wikus couldn't help but feel the overwhelming revulsion stirring within the pit of his stomach at the mere sight of his former colleagues now. In fact, it took everything he had just to keep himself rooted to the spot, and not to rush the fockers right then and there in order to teach them a lesson. When he had seen them kick an innocent child, a prawnling who appeared to be only a year or so old, he had actually had to be forcefully held back by one of his few allies, the taller alien dragging him away like an unruly teenager even as he shouted curses at the laughing mercenaries, his disfigured face contorted in righteous fury.

The prawns — _poleepkwa_ , as he'd soon discovered they were called — didn't deserve this. Didn't deserve this sort of.. _treatment_. The human understood that now with almost painful, crystal clarity.

Wikus had to grudgingly admit it - he owed his life to the prawns. Not only had they saved him from that focken bastard Koobus, but they had also taken him in after Christopher had left the planet, had given him a hideout to wait out the last of his transformation, and helped him forge the documents he desperately needed to avoid being arrested by MNU. For an exorbitant price, of course, but actually paying it had been a far more preferable option to the possibility of being taken away, and tested on again.

His time spent in the hands of those scientists still haunted his darkest dreams.

Even though several years had now passed since life as he knew it had come to an abrupt end, he was still haunted by these visions, these horrific cutscenes from his past that he wished with all his heart to someday be able to bury. Sometimes, if he was lucky, the nightmares would include his wife, the woman staring at him with a look of absolute horror in her eyes, her beautiful face twisted in shame and sorrow. Mostly, however, he saw the white halls of MNU’s underground labs, the silhouettes of the scientists around him no more than blurred splotches of dull colors, and glimpsed the cold glint of sharp tools, and again felt the pain—

But before the scalpel could quite come into contact with his bare chest, Wikus would snap awake each time, a garbled scream stuck halfway up his throat, and would clamp his disfigured hand over his alien mouth, muffling his ragged sobs, desperately imploring himself to be as quiet as possible as he cried into the night.

Just like his wife's face, he would never be able to forget what those people had done to him.

It would only be on his fifth year stuck as a prawn that he would learn that his dear Tania, his darling, _beautiful_ angel, by far the _only_ strand of hope he still had left to himself in this wretched world, had betrayed him, and the child he had been so looking forward to meeting - no longer among them.

Perhaps he shouldn't have been all that surprised by the revelation. Should've instead expected it, should've _known_ that the stress would turn out to be too much, that the knowledge of how her husband had most likely single-handedly doomed the entire human race and the ensuing public scorn would simply turn out to be too difficult for the woman to deal with. Especially while in such a fragile state. But he had fooled himself into not believing, into not even permitting himself to consider the _possibility_ that she had miscarried, his cowardice once again making itself known. When he had failed to spot a child during his rare trips to his former home, he'd just told himself that he'd come at the wrong time, that he was _always_ coming at the wrong time. Sneaking out of District 10 was a lot harder, after all. There were only a few hours during which he would not be missed. And so, he had lied to himself.. just as he had always did. Just like he had lied to himself about Christopher's eventual return.

And then.. Tania, his dear, precious, _beautiful_ angel, suddenly changed her name and left, leaving the house they had chosen together up for sale. Leaving him, Wikus, all alone. Finally giving up on him, and moving on.

_When she had promised that she wouldn't ever give up on him..._ _Just like he would never truly give up on her._

Wikus wanted to be angry, he really did. Wanted to blame her for leaving him all alone in this terrifying new world, for not believing him when he'd promised that he would come back to her. That he would fix himself. That they would be able to go back to the way things were. But he knew that he couldn't hold it against her, could never, _ever_ truly bring himself to actually hate her.

She had held out far longer than anyone else had, after all. Even his own parents, perhaps the closest people he had ever had in this world, had disowned him practically the _moment_ the full extent of his involvement in the alien escape had been made public. If not even before that, when MNU had first smeared his name with their concocted story of him having sexual relationships with the prawns. He would've thought that _they_ of all people would stand by him the longest. Would decide to protect their _child_. But it would seem that he had severely underestimated just how strong their familial bond actually was.

He _did_ always have issues with his father, after all. Perhaps it was safe to assume that the man had actually been the one to convince Wikus' mother to abandon him. For their own 'good'.

Guess he finally had his answer as to where his cowardice had come from. It didn't make it any less painful to realize though.

By far the only people he had not yet been abandoned by.. were the prawns.

Bitter, bubbling laughter wrung itself from the depths of his dark throat.

Oh, the _irony_...

"Wikus?"

The sound of the anxious voice in his ears broke him out of his increasingly darkening thoughts, and the man reluctantly looked up, meeting the golden eyes of the prawn now standing beside him, the weight of the metal sheet he was supposed to be working with unusually heavy within his clawed hands. Idly he had to wonder why MNU used _prawns_ of all creatures to handle working with precious materials in order to create complex and delicate machine parts. Seeing as most of them were considered to be so.. _simple-minded_. As well as the fact that anything they ever touched had to be decontaminated, processed and checked several times before it could ever be used by humans. Just to make sure that it wasn't 'tainted', or 'infectious'. Surely using their manual labor instead of machinery was much more costly for the company?

But then again, he'd never been all that good in financial management.

"—Okay?"

"Whot? Yeah... Yeah, I'm fine," he clicked in reply, forcing a smile onto his face to soothe the anxious creature standing beside him, its dusty blue fingers clasped tightly over its chest, secondary appendages twitching in what he'd already learned to recognize long ago as nervousness and worry.

He tried not to focus on how bizarre it was for a focken _prawn_ of all beings to be worried about him.

Andrei chittered at him in palpable disbelief and growing concern, the antennae crowning his head twitching in a manner that the former human still found vaguely disturbing, golden eyes wide. It would seem that even a _prawn_ wasn't falling for the former human's obvious bullshit.

Wikus withheld a wince.

"Look, man, I—"

A butt of a gun slamming ruthlessly against the creature's back plates soon put an end to their short conversation, however, a pained groan wringing itself from the cyan alien's chest as the worker prawn suddenly stumbled forward, struggling to remain on his feet, both aliens having completely forgotten about the guards still stalking up and down the vast room.

"Oi! Get back to work, you stupid _thing_!"

"Hey!" Wikus snapped before he could quite stop himself, his heterochromic eyes flashing in rage as he turned on the offending human, mandibles and tendrils flaring in his overwhelming fury. "He didn't focken do _anything_ to ya, man! Leave him alone!"

The human's very eloquent response to that was a gun barrel to the hybrid's solar plexus. _Of course it was._

"Wikus!"

Andrei's panicked shriek was drowned out by the ear-shattering ringing suddenly assaulting the former human's audio sensors as the smaller prawn collapsed heavily to his knees, arms wrapping almost desperately around his midsection and loud wheezes escaping his thin form as the breath was quite literally _knocked_ out of him.

_They always do this, you dumbass,_ \- his own voice hissed at him as he struggled to regain his breath, mouth parting to desperately gulp for air, the world swimming uncontrollably before his eyes from the overwhelming pain. _\- Shouldn't you know better by now than to interfere with their business? What the fock did you hope to gain by playing the goddamn hero?_ Again. _Haven't you done_ _ **enough**_ _?_

Wikus did not have any answers to offer those questions.

"Stay outta my fucking business, ya goddamn _prawn_!" The soldier snapped down at him in disgust, hatred all but dripping off his raspy vocals. The former human did his best not to cringe away in revulsion as stray droplets of spit splattered against his pale, unhealthily dull carapace. "It don't concern you!"

For a single, terrifying second Wikus wanted to reply, wanted to taunt the man now standing over him, wanted to see the anger spread across those crude features he'd grown to dearly loathe, his mismatched eyes glaring at the MNU guard waving a gun in his face — But didn't, forcefully remaining silent, his gaze falling to the dirty floor beneath them.

"That's what I fucking thought."

A heavy foot slammed with vicious brutality against his lower back and Wikus was unable to stifle the second agonized warble that wrung itself from his disfigured mouth even as the reinforced plates covering his spine took the brunt of the harsh blow, protecting his delicate insides from any possible damage.

Figures that the bastard wouldn't be satisfied with leaving without a final say, even when faced with total compliance on the prawn's part. Focking asshole.

"Wikus?" Andrei's voice, no more than a low and quiet chitter, sounded within his painfully throbbing ears, and the hybrid grunted something indecipherable, eyelids fluttering as he tried to gain control of his splotchy vision. A heavy sigh left the form standing above him, the sound resembling a melodious whistle more than it did anything else as a rush of air left the alien's multiple lungs. Like a flute now that he thought about it.

The former human withheld a chuckle at the bizarre analogy.

"Why do you always do this, Wikus?" The smaller prawn struggled not to wince at the reproach now thickly coating his coworker's vocals. Great, even the supposedly most focking simple-minded of the prawns stranded on Earth were baffled by his idiocy. Nice going, Wikus.

Andrei's golden eyes narrowed into tiny slits.

"They always hurt you. Why do you do this?"

_Because I'm hoping that one of these days they might actually put me out of my goddamn misery... Seeing as I have no courage to do so myself._

"Just fockin help me up, man," he groused instead, his dusty olive green fingers grasping at dirty cyan as the other extended a single hand, pulling him up from the dirty floor with almost terrifying ease, and clicking at him with tangible concern. Wikus merely waved him off, however, having quickly grown tired of the other's fussing. He'd had enough of that over the years to last him a lifetime.

Andrei had been one of the few prawns who had rescued him from Koobus that day, the one to offer him his shack in order to wait out the last days of his transformation without being detected by MNU. The one to even get him in touch with the right person to forge his registration, the MNU employee not even blinking twice as a thick wad of cash was placed before her, and typing a made up name into the database before swiftly stamping his head (not a pleasant experience, far from it in fact), and shoving a file of documents into his chest, curtly telling him to get out of her office. The one to offer him to bunk with him, just until they were moved and he was assigned his own tent. The one prawn Wikus now owed.. well.. virtually _everything_ to.

So, yes, he'd endured enough of the other's coddling to know that he was completely fed up with it.

Andrei rolled his eyes at him, a startlingly _human_ gesture that swiftly had Wikus sputtering in indignation, and leveled the human with an unimpressed look, his quiet clicks thick with disapproval even as he finally obliged him, turning back to his own work.

"You will get yourself killed one of these days. Mark my words."

Wikus said nothing in return.

=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=

Andrei sought him out that very same night, despite the strict curfew that had been put into place by MNU. Wikus wasn't sure what had prompted him to sit outside his tent once the sun had fully gone down, seeing as the last vestiges of any hope he might've still been vehemently holding on to had long since abandoned him, most likely the same day he had learned of his wife's betrayal. But he didn't protest as the cyan prawn settled down beside him, plopping himself onto the scratchy grass surrounding them with an exhausted groan, his lean body sagging as if beneath some immense weight and overwhelming exhaustion seeping into every line of his thin form.

Neither of them said anything for a long time, both enjoying the rare, semi-peaceful silence that had fallen between them, two pairs of eyes fixed on the clumpy masses of clouds swimming overhead in the vast sea of the seemingly endless heavens encapsulating their tiny world, both lost in their own thoughts. Unsurprisingly, it was the alien who spoke first, his voice quiet and almost gentle as he addressed the man sitting beside him, his golden eyes emitting a soft, oddly soothing glow.

"I know what you are doing, Wikus."

The hybrid stiffened briefly at those words, the former human shooting the other a sharp look from the corner of his eyes, but almost instantly relaxed again, his arms loosening where they had clenched tightly around his knees.

A soft, whistling sigh left his alien maw.

"Doing _whot_ , man?"

"Goading the guards. Trying to provoke them."

Wikus shook his head, antennae swaying in the cold breeze sweeping mercilessly through the poorly sheltered district. Despite the clear denial, Andrei could tell that the other understood what he was getting at, could tell where this conversation was heading to, and dreaded it with every inch of his being. "Bollocks. Why the fock would I be doing that?"

"Perhaps to punish yourself for the many mistakes you believe you have made over the course of your life... Or perhaps to die and finally put yourself out of your misery."

The human's gaze snapped upwards at those words, wide, heterochromic eyes meeting piercing, golden ones. To say Wikus was shocked by the burning intelligence he suddenly saw within them would be an understatement.

"Whot?!"

Andrei sent him a dry look, his mandibles flexing in what was undeniably the prawn equivalent of a frown. Even to those who were not so well-versed in alien facial expressions. "Do not play dumb with me, Wikus. I can see the scratches littering your arms from here. You've been trying to cut yourself again, haven't you?"

The former human looked away, antennae dipping in shame and arms crossing over his chest in a self-conscious manner, concealing the thin marks now marring the surface of his wrist armor. Despite the man's best efforts, he'd been unable to find anything sharp and sturdy enough to pierce the soft tissue hiding beneath the harder plates. "That doesn't mean kak, _prawn_."

"But the fact that you've given away your rations yet _again_ does, Wikus."

The hybrid cringed, his alien face contorting in a dark grimace. "That family needed the food. They've recently had a little one."

"And your selflessness is appreciated, but you can't deny that you needed that meat just about as much as they did. You're too thin, Wikus, and your armor is becoming unhealthily brittle. When was the last time you ate?" When silence reigned between them and it was obvious that he would not receive a reply to his inquiry, Andrei sighed again, his body sagging forward and tentacles lacing within his lap as he watched the prawn sitting beside him, the look in his golden eyes one of extreme sadness.

"He's coming back for us, Wikus. You have to believe that he's coming back."

The hybrid wouldn't look at him. By far the only indication that the other had even heard him at all was the way his antennae canted backward, almost flattening itself against the smaller prawn's skull, if that were even physically possible. When he finally spoke up again, his clicks were quiet, barely audible over the sounds of the whistling breeze still making its way through the sea of tents of the slumbering district. "How the fock do you know that?"

"Because he promised us. He promised _you_ ," the other prawn said, his voice firm. "And the Poleepkwa always uphold their promises. He is coming back for us. We are not forgotten—" but Wikus was already shaking his head in denial, his mismatched eyes shuttered in resignation and overwhelming exhaustion. He was far too tired of lying to himself, of holding onto the desperate, _naive_ hope that he would someday be rescued. That his life would somehow someday go back to normal. Because Wikus knew that it never would, even if he _did_ ever revert back to his human form.

As painful as it was to admit it, he really had nothing left to actually return to. His wife? Gone, most likely remarried. His parents? No longer recognized him as their own son. His job? Yeah, right. MNU would probably put a bullet through his head and then use his corpse for their twisted experimentations, rather than employ him again. The human race as a whole? Saw him as a traitor. One who no longer had a place in their society. And if MNU somehow didn't get their hands on him first, then Wikus was sure that he would probably end up thrown behind bars for life after a gruelling interrogation, or spend the rest of his days on the run. However long _that_ would actually last. He'd probably end up dead within the first week.

Even if Christopher had returned on time, it wouldn't have really mattered. Wikus could finally admit that to himself now. Admit that his life had ended the moment he'd decided to place someone's needs above his own, the moment he'd finally decided to be _human_.

But.. then again.. it would only be fair if this turned out to be his punishment for the many screwups he had made.

When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and choked with tears that he would never again be able to shed. "It's been eight years, man... He's... He's not focking coming back for us... Ever..."

"... We are on our own."

Andrei said nothing even as he reached out and pulled the shuddering form sitting beside him into a warm embrace, a gentle trill escaping his chest as the smaller prawn almost immediately burried his face into his neck, no longer able to control his reactions and suddenly desperate to hide, to conceal himself from the terrifying new world he had suddenly been thrust into against his will. By some goddamn, accursed _accident_.

"He _will_ come back for us, Wikus," he clicked gently into the other's carapace, a soothing rumble escaping his broad chest as the other trembled heavily within his arms. "You have to believe that he will come back."

But even as he uttered those words, however, the older prawn could feel his _own_ doubts starting to eat away at him, gnawing at his heart as he desperately tried to soothe his companion's distress, his tentacles rubbing soothing circles into the hard plates of the other's back and his eyes once again fixing upon the darkened heavens stretching above. It _had_ been far, _far_ too long... Could it be that no one was coming for them? That they were indeed.. alone?

A quiet whimper escaped the hybrid's chest as the other prawn's arms abruptly tightened where they were wrapped around his malnourished form, olive green fingers bracing against his aching stomach, the pain from the brutal hit he had been dealt just hours before still making itself known. If not increasing by tiny increments. It would be just Wikus' luck if the guard had actually managed to rupture something.

Andrei's tight grip immediately loosened at the quiet sound, an apologetic chitter leaving the larger creature's maw, but Wikus quickly shushed him, grateful for the quiet, supportive presence, and reluctant to leave the other's warm hold.

They sat like that for what seemed to be hours, simply enjoying the peaceful closeness of another person until one of MNU's night patrols finally drew near, Andrei rising soundlessly to his feet and vanishing into the shadows shrouding the sea of ghostly tents while Wikus swiftly slipped back into the safety of his own pitiful abode, unwilling to be caught outside past curfew and once again be punished for his disobedience.

He wasn't sure if he could handle another beating. Or pay off the ridiculous fine MNU had established for 'disrupting the peace'. The prawns were hardly paid anything as it were for their harsh labor, and he had barely anything left to himself after buying that last meal in order to feed the starving family.

As he settled into his measly pile of rags for the night, Wikus tried his best to ignore the dull pain still assaulting his insides. Or the grief and sorrow and despair slowly wrapping their cold claws around his shattered heart.

=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=

The observation deck was dark and silent when he finally dared to venture onto it, completely void of any life, the tiny pinpricks of surrounding stars by far the only source of any light for the vast room. The sudden lack of any Poleepkwan presence didn't surprise him. Not really. Most officers had already retired to their cabins for the night, preparing for the big and tiring day they would all have tomorrow, when they finally reached the little green planet he had fled over eight years ago.

Despite his best efforts, Christopher could still hardly believe it.

Tomorrow... He would be seeing _him_ again tomorrow. After so many years... so many trials...so much pain and suffering.. he would be seeing _him_ again. But...

Was _he_ even still alive, and waiting for him?

"Kaa'rok?"

The quiet, almost impossibly gentle trill broke the prawn out of his increasingly darkening thoughts, and he looked up, his marigold eyes ringed with blue widening imperceptibly at the sight of the tall figure now standing beside him, his body instinctively hunching in a show of submission and great respect, and secondary appendages all but disappearing within their sockets in his chest in surprise.

"My queen!"

A soft churr left the larger Poleepkwa's throat, the woman's pearly chitin glistening in the low light of twinkling stars as if it were embellished with tiny jewels. "There is no need for titles now, Kaa'rok. Whi'taa is fine."

Feeling embarrassed and yet strangely chastised, Christopher bowed his head, antennae swaying in the warm air of the moving ship. Although he had worked with the queen closely over the last eight years in an effort to bring their stranded brethren home, he still felt far too uncomfortable and out of place to freely call her by her name, rather than her title. It still seemed far too.. disrespectful for one of his position to speak to her this way.

Noticing the prawn's discomfort, the Poleepkwan queen took a slow step back, permitting him more space, her iridescent eyes narrowing in obvious concern and understanding. "You are worried, my friend."

It wasn't a question. And Christopher saw no reason to lie.

"Yes."

Whi'taa cocked her head to the side at the quiet reply, the large and feather light wings adorning her back like a silvery cape flicking in thought, as though swaying in the soft breeze of their now far away homeland. "Why?"

Christopher shook his head, suddenly feeling quite foolish as he dragged a heavy hand down his face, yet another human gesture he had unknowingly picked up during his time trapped on Earth, his body sagging forward as he faced one of their planet's monarchs.

"I cannot stop wondering if.. _he_ is still waiting for me. If he still remembers and believes that I will come back for him. If he.. If he's not... If they haven't—"

A soft hand laid itself upon his shoulder, effectively putting a stop to his nervous ramble and the emerald alien did not resist it, greatly comforted by its gentle weight and warmth against his dark exoskeleton.

"He is alive, Kaa'rok. If what you have told me about him is indeed true, then there is yet hope that he is still awaiting your return. Have some faith, my friend. You will see him again, and uphold the promise you had made to him all those years ago."

Christopher's head dipped in a shallow nod, his troubled heart soothed by his queen's kind words, and turned back to glance out of the large windows adorning the ship's deck, his gaze falling upon the tiny blue speck waiting for them in the pitch black vastness of space.

_Just hold on a little longer, Wikus. I am coming..._


End file.
